To Boldly Go
by petrelli heiress
Summary: When Arthur and Gwen have to go on a quest together, Merlin and Morgana are left alone. Morgana decides to treat Merlin as though he were her Barbie doll, if they had existed back then and if Morgana were silly enough to have one. Serious crack. Hmm.


**To Boldly Go**

**Characters/Pairings: Merlin, Morgana, Arthur, implied Arthur/Gwen, pre-slash Morgana/Gwen and Arthur/Merlin**

**Author's Note: I had a very vivid dream. For crazyboutremmy, who told me to write this. This is crack, with occasional seriousness. AND OMG, I WROTE ANOTHER MERLIN FIC. SUCCESS. **

**Warnings/Spoilers: PG-13, contains cross dressing. No spoilers, although this was kind of inspired by the episode Lady of the Lake. **

**Summary: Arthur and Gwen have to go on a quest together, leaving Morgana and Merlin alone. Morgana dresses Merlin up, as though he were her Barbie doll (if they existed back then, and if Morgana was silly enough to have one). **

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. SERIOUSLY. This was written with only entertainment in mind. Profit never even entered my head. **

* * *

It started out as a joke at first, really.

"I think this red one would look absolutely stunning on you, Merlin," Morgana said, holding up a red dress against her body. She looked down at it, frowning a little, but when she glanced back up at him she was smiling. "What do you think?"

"Uh," said Merlin, revealing his cleverness and also his complete and utter lack of ability to give the King's Ward a definite _no_. Arthur, after the burst of insane laughter which would surely follow if Merlin ever told him what Morgana was making him do, would most likely be very disappointed in him. And then call him a girl. "Sure, I guess."

"Good!" Morgana's smile morphed into a rather scary grin. She pushed the red dress into his arms and motioned for him to take his position behind the screen.

He did so, his hands now only shaking slightly. This was the sixth dress she'd "asked" him to put on, and that only counted today. Yesterday she had made him wear sixteen! And she had made him strut around the room, although she had only asked that of him once, since he'd come off looking like a demented swan. He and Morgana had taken an oath never to speak of that particular incident ever again.

He pulled the dress over his head and felt the fabric slide across his skin, some of it pooling at his feet. He had to admit that wearing dresses was remarkably freeing, and didn't really understand why Morgana insisted on wearing _his _clothes whenever they were alone together (although this did mean he couldn't run away).

He sighed and brushed down the fabric, smoothing some barely perceived wrinkles. He stepped out from behind the screen, nervous as hell and breathing far too heavily (he really should be used to this by now), and was immediately bombarded by Morgana, who insisted on straightening and picking and pinning, and doing weird things with his hair. She pinched his cheeks, and he almost didn't feel it this time. Almost.

Merlin pushed her away, and she let him because he always did this. "No belladonna this time," he warned. "My eyes sparkle perfectly well by themselves. Anyway I nearly went blind last time."

Morgana raised her hands, trying to convey a white flag gesture (although she would never truly surrender). "Fine," she said. "No belladonna." She finally stepped back and took a good long look, one finger tapping her chin. "Hmm," she said.

Merlin waited.

"I like it," she said eventually, and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps it was finally over?

Apparently not.

"...but it does lack a certain...something," she continued.

Merlin's shoulders slumped. "Like the fact that I'm not a girl?" he said, unable to keep the sarcasm and the hint of a sneer out of his voice.

"Well, there is that," Morgana said, perfectly serious. Merlin didn't even waste time concealing his frustration. "But of course, _that _can be remedied." With that, she pulled Merlin close and stuffed a few pieces of fabric she'd stolen from Gwen's room down the front of his dress. She stepped back again, to admire her work.

"There, that's much better!" she said, grinning at him. He didn't even bother hiding his glare. He crossed his arms over his fabric stuffed chest and turned the full force of his frustration, anxiety and confusion toward her.

"Why are you doing this, Morgana?" he asked, thinking he definitely had the right to drop the "my lady" crap after all she'd put him through (and in). "Is this about Arthur and Gwen, and the quest they went on?"

"No," she said immediately, which of course meant that it was exactly the reason. Knowing that he could see through her pathetically obvious subterfuge, she sat in a nearby chair (she would never slump – a part of her with the voice of her old Nurse Gladys would jump up and cry, "NO") and gestured for Merlin to sit down.

There was a moment of intense, awkward silence.

"I wonder how they're doing," Morgana said. "It's been three weeks."

Merlin smoothed the dress over his knees. "They're probably fine."

She glanced up, her gaze piercing. Merlin could actually feel himself wilting under it. "Probably. You said probably. You don't think they'll be fine?" Her face went hard and cold and very, very scary. "If Arthur gets her killed, I will murder him."

"I have no doubt," Merlin said. He cleared his throat. "And I'm sure they're absolutely fine. If they weren't, you'd have had a dream by now, right?"

She seemed to relax at those words. "You're right, of course. Silly of me to worry." She gave him a smile. It wasn't a very good one, but it did the trick for now.

There was another moment of intense awkwardness.

Merlin cleared his throat. "Did you do this to...I mean, for Gwen?" He gestured at himself, the dress, and then around the room, taking in the screen and the other dresses strewn over the bed.

She nodded. "Yes, I did." Her face softened as she smiled. "I used to give her the dresses she liked. I have more than enough, so I don't lose anything giving some away."

"So, what? You're just using me as a surrogate while Gwen's away?" Merlin shook his head, tried to cross one leg over the other, felt something stretch and returned his leg to its previous position. He could say just about anything he wanted, but ruin a dress? The stocks, the dungeons, and then the executioner's block. All expected, and very much not wanted. "I feel so loved."

"Oh, like I don't treat you better than Arthur does!" Morgana shouted, her eyes blazing. She stood up, looking down on him with misplaced anger in her heart. "I've seen the way you look at him, but all he probably thinks about is Gwen! Gwen this, Gwen that, she just goes round and round that puny little head of his. It's the same with her, you know. Oh, didn't Arthur look good this morning? Weren't you worried when Arthur twisted his ankle after falling down the well? Arthur, Arthur, Arthur! It's enough to drive me mad!"

She stopped, breath coming in short, heavy gasps.

Merlin didn't really know what to say. He settled for clearing his throat.

Another intensely awkward moment of silence presented itself.

Morgana sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her forehead slightly. "It's just I don't really know – or trust – any of the other maids, and you're the only one who knows about my magic. I thought you'd be easier to talk to."

"Well," Merlin said, and paused. Not really knowing what to say, he said what first came to mind. "Maybe they'll end up killing each other, and then both our problems will have been solved." He then realised what he'd just said and spent a few moments cursing himself.

She smiled. He was a little surprised at that, but it was definitely something he could work with. He decided to keep going. "And then when Uther's gone, you could become Queen, and bring magic back. Then everything will be rainbows and unicorns. Literally," he added, thinking that this might actually be a better plan than the Dragon's one, because Arthur could be a real prat sometimes.

"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "It's a definite possibility though."

"Now," she said a few moments of slightly more comfortable silence later, "I think this green one would look stunning on you." She pulled it over to her and showed it to him.

Merlin groaned and let his head fall into his hands.

She waited.

He lifted his head, and pointed. "I...sort of like that blue one."

The smile that appeared was so blinding, Merlin might have actually had to invent sunglasses thousands of years before their time. It almost made up for the next fifty seven dresses Morgana made him try on. Almost.

_A few days later..._

Arthur threw his armour onto the floor. He glared at Merlin when he saw him try and cover his ears. "You have no idea," he said through gritted teeth. He pulled his chain mail off and twisted it around in his hands, as though imagining twisting someone's head off with the same single minded intensity.

"No idea about what?" Merlin asked. Arthur threw the chain mail at him as a reward for his impertinence.

Arthur paced across the room, back and forth, back and forth. Eventually he said, "I thought you were bad! But she...she's worse! Prattling on and on...and the nagging! Oh, you shouldn't act like this, Arthur! Lancelot's much better at this than you are, Arthur! I just wanted to...!" He made a strangling motion. Merlin actually felt sympathy for the air.

"So I take it your quest wasn't a success?" Merlin asked, beginning to pick the armour Arthur had strewn across the room upon his arrival off the floor.

Arthur snorted. "Oh, it was a success, alright." He threw himself on the bed, letting out a semi-frustrated sigh. "I have successfully concluded that Guinevere and I are not destined to be."

"How sad," Merlin said. "I'm crying on the inside."

Arthur threw a pillow at him. It was at least softer than the chain mail. Merlin took a seat and watched Arthur settle back down into the mattress. "What did you get up to while I was gone?" Arthur asked. He sat up in order to see Merlin better. "Wasn't bored, I hope?"

Merlin, who knew exactly what he wanted him to say, instead said, "No, definitely not bored. Morgana kept me company."

"Oh, she did, did she?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his face. "How did she, pray tell?"

"You don't want to know, believe me. Suffice to say, she is one strange girl."

"Well, I already knew that, Merlin." Arthur huffed, as though he had expected some juicy bit of gossip. Merlin sometimes wondered whether _he_ was more of a girl. "She didn't say anything about me, did she?"

"Nothing flattering." Merlin glanced over at him, a suspicious glint in his eye. Arthur pulled all of his resources, in order to try and look as innocent as possible. "Wait a minute, please tell me you're not going to go back to your Morgana crush now that Gwen is out of the picture. Because, believe me, you are definitely _not _her type."

"Oh?" Arthur sat up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I suppose you're her type?"

"No," he replied firmly. How to put this? "I'm not her type, you're not her type, Gaius isn't her type, the King's not her type, Sir Leon's not her type, Lancelot's not her type...do you get where I'm going with this?"

"Gaius?" Arthur appeared to have missed the point. "What the hell are you on about, Merlin? Have you been drinking again?"

"No!" Merlin shouted, whatever had been holding his frustration in check snapping with an almost audible _twang_. "No man in the world is her type! If you paid attention for once, instead of thinking about yourself all the time, you would actually notice a thing or two."

Arthur blinked at him. "Merlin," he said slowly. "Why are you wearing a dress?"

Merlin looked down.

Oops.

* * *

**I don't know...should I add something? I feel like adding something, but if I do I'll probably ruin it. Ah well, we'll see.**

**Review please. **


End file.
